


No Good Reason (for a Giant Cream Pie)

by Kizmet



Series: Muddling through Grey [3]
Category: The Flash (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 21:55:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5801662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kizmet/pseuds/Kizmet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Trickster's first year as a Rogue and Barry just wishes that he didn't recognize the recipe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Good Reason (for a Giant Cream Pie)

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set during Trickster's first year as a Rogue and his first year of Middle School with Wally as a classmate.

"What was stolen again?" Barry asked his colleague at the police lab.

"1000 tubes of pre-made chocolate chip cookie dough, 75 lbs sugar, 50 lbs cornstarch, 30 gal of milk, 417 cartons of eggs, 20 lbs butter, 2 gallons of vanilla, 20 bunches of bananas, 16 lbs of powdered sugar and 1500 cans of whipping cream," Patty Melcher read off the report.

Barry shook his head, "Something about that list nags at me."

"Like someone's out to make the world's biggest banana cream pie?" Patty replied. "But I can't figure out the cookie dough."

"It's the crust," Barry remarked absently, then groaned. "Patty, could you cover for me? I need to check on James immediately, yesterday in fact."

"The air-walking kid?" Patty asked. "He's still staying with you and Iris?"

"Sometimes," Barry sighed. "When he feels like it. He needs a stable home but James doesn't realize that, he's never had one. Twelve or not, he thinks he can take care of himself and the last thing I want to do is scare him off completely. Iris and I, we're... we're just trying to make sure he's got somewhere to turn to if he gets in over his head."

"Go," Patty said. "Good luck keeping him out of trouble."

* * *

As he exited the station Barry switched to the Flash and set about searching the city at super-speeds. Hopefully he could head James off before anything happened. Ninety seconds later he crossed the bridge into Keystone. He found what he was looking for just in time to see the giant cream-pie, Iris' favorite recipe unless he missed his guess, arc gracefully through the air and smack into the gleaming face of a brand new factory. The filling splattered across the collection of corporate execs and city dignitaries gathered for the ribbon cutting ceremony.

Flash turned and there he was: A boy in orange and blue stripes, capering in mid-air over a catapult. 'A catapult of all things. Where did he get a catapult? Better question: Where did he get the stuff to build a catapult?' The boy laughed and pumped his fist in the air.

Flash zipped across the intervening distance, crossed his arms over his chest and frowned sternly at the boy. "James, what do you think you're doing?"

The boy pointed to the domino mask hiding his eyes. "I'm wearing the mask, it's Trickster. Play right!" He lobbed a globule of filling at Flash. "What do you think of my pie?"

"Not too bad but not any competition," Flash said.

"I though I did pretty good, given how much I had to scale up recipe," Trickster protested.

"You forgot the salt," Flash pointed out. "Now, Trickster, what do you think you're doing?"

Trickster grinned broadly, his expression full of mischief. "Captain Cold says villain-monologuing in the middle of a get-away is for morons."

"So I've got to catch you first?" Flash asked.

"If you can," Trickster challenged. He took off running, gaining altitude with every step.

Flash shook his head and took off after him on the ground. When he was beneath Trickster he spun up a whirl-wind.

Trickster countered it with a modified whirly-gig. "Old trick, Flasher. Not gonna catch me with one of those," he laughed.

Flash paused to study Trickster's new toy. Then he dashed after the boy again, setting up a system of twisters going at different velocities and in different directions. Eventually Trickster misjudged the strength of one of the twisters and was thrown off balance. He went limp as he fell.

Flash skidded to a stop beneath Trickster. The boy grinned up at him, 'Falling wasn't so bad when you knew you'd be caught,' Trickster thought. "Made you work for it," he declared proudly.

Flash shook his head and put Trickster back on his feet but he kept a firm hold on the back of the boy's collar. "Okay Trickster. Now. What. Is. This. All. About?" he demanded.

* * *

"Where were you today?" Iris Allen asked, her expression caught between relief and curiosity, as her husband walked in the door. "Captain Cold and Mirror Master cleaned out the First National Bank. Heatwave and Captain Boomerang got the US Bank. I worried when I heard Flash wasn't seen at either."

Barry closed his eyes and groaned. "These robberies. They wouldn't have both happened at say, about 2:17 this afternoon?" he asked.

"I didn't notice the exact time," Iris replied. "But that sounds about right, why?"

* * *

James sat on the witness stand, his legs tucked beneath him so he could be seen over the partition. He was neatly dressed and look about three-quarters of his twelve years. He smiled at the judge his face open and guileless. "I documented everything, just like a real scientist, like Barry," he declared as he produced a lab-book.

Barry hid his face in his hands.

The judge accepted the book skeptically. On the first few pages were diagrams of the catapult along with force and trajectory calculations. And there were sketches. The CGM factory, the ribbon cutting ceremony, little people standing in front of it covered in goop, alternately shaking their fists at James' representation of himself or sitting on the ground crying buckets.

"I had to work really hard on the pie," James continued earnestly. "Making it that big wasn't easy and I had to be careful about getting everything mixed right and heated evenly. I mean a soccer-ball sized clump of cornstarch could really hurt someone and I just wanted to make a mess. Pages 14 through 43," he added helpfully.

The judge sighed and flipped to the indicated pages. As James had said there was documentation of weeks' worth of experiments to ensure that the prank wouldn't result in injuries.

"Heatwave helped you construct this... oven?" the judge frowned.

"Heatwave? That scary guy who sets fires?" James widened his eyes in an exaggerated expression of alarm. "My friend, Mick Rory, helped me," he insisted innocently. "I was really worried about making the crust right. It had to crumble into little pieces as soon as I launched it from the catapult."

"Even though no one was hurt, and that was clearly by intent, you are still guilty of vandalism," the judge pointed out sternly.

The doors to the court room swung open dramatically and a slight red-head ran in. "It's all my fault!" he exclaimed. "Don't punish James! He and Wally are all the friends I've got!"

"Young man, you can't just-" the judge began.

Hartley kept talking over him, his voice getting steadily louder as the twelve-year-old got more upset. "You can't send James to prison! You can't! It's my fault! He's my friend!"

Barry crouched down in front of Hartley. "Hartley! Calm down. Let's talk calmly," he said, signing as well to reinforce the message.

After several moment Hartley quieted.

"You're calm? You're paying attention?" Barry asked, still reiterating in sign.

Hartley nodded.

Barry sighed, "Good. My ASL is limited. Alright, how is it 'your fault' that James baked a giant pie, dressed up as Trickster and lobbed it at the new CGM Factory?"

"Because the people in charge of it are bad," Hartley explained to Barry. "I saw them talking about cutting corners and paying off the inspectors and 'making a killing'. I told James and Wally about it. And James did something!" Hartley paused to give his friend a worshipful look.

Barry grimaced. Wally had been trying to tell him about something a few days earlier, but he'd been getting ready for the trial against the serial killer, Dr. Michael Amar and then Grodd had resurfaced...

"CSI Allen," the judge said. "Could you explain to this young man that he can't simply burst in here making slanderous accusations-"

"I didn't lie!" Hartley exclaimed angrily.

Barry felt a headache coming on. "Your Honor, could you excuse me for a moment?" he asked. "There should be one more running around here somewhere."

"Wally distracted the guard for me," Hartley confirmed.

"Hartley, promise you'll sit here and not interrupt?" Barry asked. "James is still in trouble, even if he meant well."

Hartley's posture crumpled into miserable huddle. Barry picked him up and sat him on one of the benches in the courtroom.

It didn't take long to find Wally in the courthouse.

"Uncle Barry!" Wally exclaimed.

The security guard marching Wally out of the building switched his glare over from the boy to his Uncle. "CSI Allen, are you connected to this miscreant?"

"Yes. I'll keep him out of any more trouble," Barry promised as he collected Wally.

"Uncle Barry, Hartley and I took the bus all by ourselves!" Wally whispered excitedly. "We didn't get lost once. And I made Hartley wear a doctor-mask while we were on the bus so he wouldn't get exposed to any germs. I took good care of him."

At the mention of germs, Barry groaned remembering that Hartley was just days from his latest round of surgery and probably shouldn't have been out his house.

"Does Hart really need more hospitals?" Wally continued worriedly. "He lip reads really well, you can't even tell he's deaf unless he's upset and forgets. I don't want him getting another post-operative infection. He had to stay in the hospital for weeks and weeks and it was really scary."

"That's up to Hartley and his parents," Barry said as he dug for his cellphone.

"You mean it's up to his Dad, Lord Bossy," Wally muttered.

Barry held up a finger for silence as his call connected. "Hello sergeant. If Mrs. Rathaway calls… She already has? No, no Hartley wasn't kidnapped, he just went exploring. The Feds too? Already? …She knows a congressman, of course. Well, you can call off the amber alert: Hartley and Wally turned up at the courthouse... Yes, James' case… Did Mrs. Rathaway happen to mention that my nephew went missing along with Hartley? No, I'll call Mrs. Rathaway and let her know that both boys are safe. Sorry for all the trouble."

Barry hung up and dialed a second number. "Rachel? It's Barry Allen... Rachel, Rachel! Hartley's okay... He's fine Rachel. He and Wally just turned up at the Courthouse, I was here for a trial... You do remember that Wally was visiting today? That means your staff needs to keep track of both boys." Barry listened for several minutes, frowning. "I'll see that he gets home safely... All right, you'll send your driver and the limo. Tell him we'll meet him on the front steps... Truly Rachel, Hartley is fine, a little over-excited but in perfect condition. Both boys are fine, but you need to have someone keep a better eye on them."

"Hartley's mom is a poop," Wally contributed.

"She won't let you see Hartley anymore if the two of you keep getting in trouble. Your parents won't let you keep going over there if they think Hartley's family doesn't keep a proper eye on you," Barry warned. He opened the door and ushered Wally into the courtroom.

"House arrest and community service," James reported to Barry, looking contrite. "You'll take responsibility for me won't you?"

Barry saw Wally seated beside Hartley then went up to talk to the judge. "Your honor, I know it's irregular but we haven't been able to contact James' parents in over a year. He regularly lives with my wife and I-"

"Yes, I'm aware of the unusual circumstances." The judge frowned, "You understand that if I release him into your custody I will hold you accountable for him. Two months house arrest, with an ankle bracelet. He is to be in school or at home, he can ride the bus, but he cannot be allowed to walk between the two. No after-school activities outside of his community service. Definitely no contact with convicted felons. "

"Yes, I understand."

The judged turned to James, "Be assured the community service will be unpleasant, cleaning the restroom at the bus station possibly. "

James' lower lip quivered. Barry fought the urge to roll his eyes.

* * *

"Community service! Am I good or what?" James exclaimed as the four of them sat on the stairs outside the courthouse waiting for Hartley's ride.

"Impossible is what you are," Barry sighed.

"But the judge said-" Hartley worried.

"I've mucked out elephant stalls," James replied confidently. "There's nothing he can come up with that's going to bother me. I hope Chyre has to monitor me, it's fun to play with his head."

"James?" Barry asked sternly. "Did you know the Rogues were going to use your stunt as a decoy while they robbed those banks?"

James blinked at him innocently. "They robbed a bank?"

Barry looked unimpressed.

"You didn't tell the judge," James pointed out happily.

"I should have my head examined," Barry muttered.

Wally looked conflicted, "Hart really did see people talking about doing bad stuff at that factory," he said.

Hartley nodded, "At one of my parents' parties. I hate going to those. No one pays any attention to me. They'll talk like I'm not even in the room. Plus all my parents friends are jossers!" he declared, clearly pleased his new vocabulary.

Barry groaned. "First, James, don't teach Hartley rude things to call people in Parlari. Second, you can't go around making giant pies and throwing them at people, period. Especially not with catapults. For any reason."

"I'm sorry," James said putting his contrite expression back on.

"I only hypothetically said an outboard motor would work like a giant mixer," Wally interjected.

Barry rubbed his temples. "Wally, you know James well enough to know his hypotheticals are never hypothetical. Hartley, your mother thought you were kidnapped. She called the police, a congressman and the FBI."

"Again?" Hartley flushed. "Mother treats me like I'm five! Wally and James get to walk to school and do stuff on their own! I have to take the chauffeur just to walk around the grounds at my house! And this was important! What if they locked James up? He was just trying to help!"

"No he wasn't," Barry said with a frown at James. "The three of you need to stop getting into trouble. James, you know giant cream pies are not an appropriate response to ANYTHING... Especially not when they're conveniently timed to distract the Flash. Wally, Hartley the two of you can't just up and leave whenever you feel like it. The two of you could have been hurt or kidnapped for real wandering around town like that on your own. Your parents aren't going to keep letting you play together if you do things like this."

Hartley made a distressed noise and latched on to Wally and James, staring up at Barry with huge, panicky eyes, instantly making Barry feeling like the bad guy. "I'm sorry," Barry sighed. "But it's true, you have to think before you do things."

James started to protest.

Barry cut him off, "Yes, I know you put a lot of thought into this stunt of yours. It was still a bad idea and you know why." Barry hesitated. There was no Earthly good application for a giant cream pie, he shouldn't ask, it would just encourage James. "I don't suppose the judge returned your lab book?"

James produced the book with one of his sunniest smiles.

Barry thumbed through it quickly, although not at Flash speeds due to Hartley's presence. There weren't any good applications for a giant cream pie but the trajectory calculations demonstrated a solid understanding of classical mechanics. The problem of mixing on that scale wasn't a bad chemical engineering project, Wally's brainstorm about the outboard motor was clever, although it had only been the first step. He really should make certain Heatwave had explained the thermodynamic principles involved in baking the thing, just in case the criminal had simply done the work for James instead of taking the time to teach him.

"The motor was a good use of something readily available to solve your problem but it wasn't the only thing you had on hand," Barry said. James and Wally sat on either side of him, leaning over his shoulders to see the lab book. Hartley sat cross-legged on the steps in front of him so he could lip-read more easily. "If you asked, I think Hartley could probably amp up those speakers his, the ones you made so you could feel the music's vibrations without your hearing aids," Barry said to Hartley. "If you adapted them just a little bit further you'll have an ultrasonic mixer, you could liquify all those cornstarch clumps James was worrying about."

The three boys looked at each other gleefully at the word liquify.

Barry wondered when he'd taken leave of his senses.


End file.
